More Than Salt
by shouldbecleaning
Summary: Princess Isabella must find a way to teach her father, King Charles, a lesson. Oh, and win the heart of a Prince at the same time. A fairy tale.
1. Chapter 1

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

 **Based on a parable that is found in many different countries and cultures.**

 **The lovely and talented beachcomberlc had her wicked way with this story and, with a blink of her eye, corrected every mistake my lazy ass missed. If I had any magic nuts, I'd give them to her.**

 **Chapter 1**

A long, long time ago, in a small Kingdom far, far away a rather upset monarch sat contemplating on his throne. King Charles the Forth had, all his life, wanted an extra title. He wanted to be known as Good King Charles or Charles the Lionhearted, or some such name. But the best he could wish for, if one were to poll his people, was Charles the Apathetic. He had accomplished next to nothing during his reign. He did not engage in any wars. He did not broker any peace agreements with neighbouring countries. The only thing he managed to do was father seven daughters. Seven useless daughters, well, useless for a monarch who needed healthy sons to succeed his throne. There had been one son who died in childbirth along with his wife. He hadn't particularly cared much for his wife, she did her duty poorly in producing only daughters. Year after year he had gotten his hopes up whenever his wife was taken to the birthing bed. Year after year he was disappointed.

First Margaret, then twins Charlotte and Elizabeth, then Isabella, then twins Rachel and Rebecca, and finally Kate. Of course they were all well mannered and accomplished Princesses with varying degrees of beauty but Charles had to find suitable husbands for all of them. This was the cause of his current upset. How to successfully marry off seven princesses to ensure that one of them would produce an heir for his throne. Charles had just finished his ten year mourning period and was too old to find a new wife. The first four were of marrying age with the next two almost ready, the baby was just over a year away from the right age. He had a list of Princes, Dukes, Earls and Viscounts ready but only six of them. One daughter would have to do without until someone suitable became available.

Charles devised a contest to see which daughter he would slight. He called them all together and posed a question to each of them. He let them think on their answers for twenty-four hours before demanding their conclusions. Lined up by age in front of the throne he started with Margaret, the eldest.

"Tell me, child, what is the one thing in this kingdom that you love most? The one thing that only your love for me surpasses?"

Margaret stepped forward and curtseyed to her father.

"Your Majesty, I love you more than all the diamonds in Mother's tiara."

Satisfied with her answer, he nodded at her and she took her place back in line. He turned his head to Kate, the youngest and repeated his questions.

"Your Majesty, I love you more than all my pretty dresses."

Taking into account her age, he was satisfied with her answer. He turned to Charlotte.

"Your Majesty, I love you more than all the gold in this kingdom."

"Your Majesty, I love you more than there are stars in the sky." Rebecca shyly spoke, taking her turn.

Elizabeth giggled and tripped with her curtsey but her answer still pleased her father.

"Your Majesty, I love you more than the sun that warms this Kingdom."

Rachel rushed forward to give her answer.

"Your Majesty, I love you more than all the silver in your vaults."

King Charles was puffed up with pride at his daughters. His ego had been expertly stroked and he felt the love his daughters offered. He turned to his last girl and wondered what she could love that came second only to him.

"Father, I love you more than the salt in my food." Isabella was always softly spoken and gentle he could not believe the words that came from her lips. Of all the damned things she prized, he came just before salt. Salt was nothing, a common seasoning with little other use. How dare she speak of him that way. His overinflated ego fell like a poorly made soufflé. As his anger at his middle daughter grew, the colour of his face changed from light pink to puce. He roared out for his other daughters to leave the throne room at once.

He turned to Isabella.

"How dare you. Salt, you ignorant girl, is useless. Did you not hear your sisters? Did you not hear the wonderful things they said to me? And you say you love me more than salt. I say you love me not at all. For you to say such things with your sisters as witnesses, it galls me." He stood up and paced back and forth in front of his throne.

"Father, you misunderstand."

He would not let her finish.

"You are no longer my child. I banish you from my sight and my Kingdom. Go and gather your things and make your goodbyes. If you are not gone by nightfall I'll set the guards after you. Get out." His last command was yelled at the top of his lungs. His six other daughters heard it while they were listening at the door. They all ran to their rooms as quickly as they could. One by one they barred their doors so that they would not anger their father further by granting a kindness to his now disgraced daughter.

Isabella heard her sisters lock her out, she knew that they would have to side with the King and she did not blame them for it, really. They were not the closest of families and the sister were not good friends, more genial acquaintances who shared some blood. She would miss them, of course but her heart did not break for this slight. It broke for the fact that her father would not let her explain her answer. If he would only listen to her, just this once. She resolved to find a way to make him understand. However, first she had to leave the castle and make her way in the world. She was lucky, in fact, luckier than her sisters because she had a skill. Most of her days, she had spent time in the kitchens, learning and attending to the family meals. It was her escape and enjoyment all rolled into one.

Isabella knew there was no appealing her father's decision. As King and father his word was law. There was no recourse for her but time. She had hurt his pride in front of others. She would have to do what he said and leave as quickly as possible.

Isabella gathered a few items that meant something to her, a couple pieces of clothing and her small purse of coins. She kissed and thanked her ladies maid and went to the kitchen to say goodbye to the family cook and the helpers. They pressed a bag of bread and hard cheese into her hands and wished her well. Isabella was the most pragmatic of all King Charles' daughters and was well loved by the castle staff. She sighed and made her way out of the castle that had been her only home. She did not look back nor did she cry. She waited until after nightfall and many miles away before she broke into tears.

 **AN: This will be short and update frequently. For geography and time, choose your own, but bear in mind that it is a bit of a fairy tale, anything could happen. It is King Lear meets Cinderella with Twilight characters. Go figure.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 2

Isabella walked for many days. She encountered a few people on her journey, most of them friendly and helpful. As she was not as pampered a Princess as one might think, she had little trouble sleeping in barns or under trees. For her, it was a bit of an adventure, not a great adventure, but one just the same. The bread, now though stale, had not lost it's flavour. The cheese was filling and rather toothsome. She was able to gather a few apples from an abandoned farm along the way. Wild berries and grains help stretch her meals and fill her stomach. For most of the journey, she travelled along a small river and was able to drink or bathe as needs be. She was very thankful that there had been little rain and that the weather was warm. She hoped to be settled before it turned to winter.

In a neighbouring Kingdom, on the edge of a bustling town, Isabella encountered several rough soldiers surrounding a crying woman just outside of a dilapidated cottage. The soldiers were hurling nasty insults at the poor woman and throwing dirt and garbage at her.

"Whore."

"Sorceress."

"Witch."

"Filth."

"Beggar."

"Hag."

"Crone."

Isabella could stand by idly no longer when two of the soldiers poured filthy water on the woman. She ran up and stood in front of the sad thing and demanded that they stop. The woman only wailed louder.

The soldiers took one look at Isabella and stopped what they were doing. Although she was travel worn and quite dirty herself, it was plain to see that her clothes were of good quality and that she was a lady of good breeding.

"Why are you torturing her so? What has she done to you?" Isabella stood firm against the men, giving them her best evil eye.

"The witch is behind in her rent. We were just having a little fun with her before we threw her out." The soldiers did not understand why they felt embarrassed being caught by this lady. Something about her made them feel shame at their actions. They had preformed many evictions together and it was always a jovial time for them. The extra coin they received from the landlords would go a long way towards wine and women, or ale and whores, depending on the day.

Isabella had heard tell of witches in neighbouring kingdoms, but never in her own. Life would have been a lot more interesting if there had been witches around. She looked down at the woman on the ground just behind her. She didn't look like a witch. She was small, with dark hair and very pretty, that was easy to see even through the tears she wept. Isabella thought witches to be old, stooped and ugly, so this girl could not be a witch, in her mind.

"How much rent does she owe?" Isabella asked the soldier who seemed to be in charge.

"A month, two gold coins." He felt that twinge of shame again. Normally some one isn't evicted until three months had passed but the landlord wanted the witch gone.

"You would harm a woman, willingly for two coins. How ludicrous. What would your Mothers say to that, I wonder?" That sentence pierced into the very heart of each of the soldiers and solidified the reason for their shame. This lady standing in front of them reminded them of their mothers or their sisters. They were caught red-handed and guilty.

"But," said the youngest of them, "she's just a witch. We are allowed to have a go at her. Landlord said."

"She's not a witch. She is my sister and a lady of merit." Isabella reached into her bag a drew out her purse. She tipped the contents into the hand of the eldest soldier.

"There, one months rent overdue paid and three more to bank. Plus a coin for your troubles. Tell the Landlord that the _**lady**_ will leave when she wants to and not a second before." The soldiers, taken aback, just nodded and bowed to the lady. They walked off feeling reprimanded and sheepish.

Isabella turned to the crying girl on the ground behind her. Her hands were covering her face but her tears were flowing through her fingers. Her sobs were loud and sounded almost painful.

"There, there, Miss. Everything is fine now." Isabella crouched down and smoothed the hair on the poor girl's head. Once the soldiers were far enough away the girl chanced to look up at her saviour.

"Come, let's go inside and collect ourselves." Isabella stood and held a hand out to the girl.

The girl raised herself slowly and walked into her cottage, her shoulders still shaking with silent sobs. She checked the water in the kettle and stoked the fire. It did not take much time for the kettle to boil and tea to be prepared. Mechanically, she laid out the items she needed for tea. She did not have the courage to look at Isabella, who stood just inside the door of the little cottage.

When the tea was ready she motioned with one hand for Isabella to sit at the small table in the corner and carried the inadequate tea service over to her. Isabella looked at the offering of tea, bread and butter and smiled at the girl.

"Thank you, this looks lovely."

The girl was shocked and humbled. No one had ever shown her such kindness.

"My name is Isabella. Might I ask what you are called, Miss?"

"Alice, my lady." The girl answered in a voice just barely above a whisper.

"Now, none of that. Please, just Isabella. I do hope we shall be good friends, Alice."

Alice fell into the only other chair feeling for all the world that she could cry herself dry.

Alice poured out some tea and passed the cup to Isabella's waiting hand. She had thousands of questions running through her mind and no idea where or even if to start.

"Why?" The question was all encompassing and easy enough to begin the conversation.

"I could not stand by and let them call you such horrible names. It just was not right." Isabella smiled indulgently at Alice before she tasted the tea and found it quite refreshing. She had not consumed a hot beverage since leaving her father's castle and sorely missed tea along her journey.

"But, you needn't interfere. Many others passed by and did nothing. Besides, some of what they said was true and I am behind in the rent." Alice looked down at her lap and her hands that were gripped to together so tightly that the skin had turned an ashen white.

"I'm sorry. I meant to say thank you. Not question your motives. Thank you, my lady, most sincerely for helping me. I will do everything in my power to repay you."

Isabella smiled at the earnest look on Alice's face.

"A good cup of tea is ample payment, you needn't worry yourself too much, Alice. Things will work out as they should."

 **AN: Thank you for reading. It is lovely to see some many people along for this ride. And frankly, a little daunting too.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 3

Alice poured herself a cup of tea and sipping it, finally relaxed after her ordeal. She studied the lady across from her.

"I don't believe I've ever seen you before, my lady. You are not from the town or any of the surrounding farms, are you?"

"No, I am from very far away. I've been travelling for days and days. Pray tell, where am I? Whose Kingdom is this?"

"This is the land of King Carlisle, The Compassionate. From where have you travelled, my lady?"

"From the land of King Charles."

Alice's eyes narrowed at the name.

"That is far from here. Why did you leave your home?"

Isabella sighed.

"My father disowned me when I angered him. I was hoping to find work and a place to stay until I could find a way to get back in his good graces again."  
"Hmm," Alice hummed in thought. "Could you not appeal to the King to have your father reconsider? Or perhaps find work or lodging there?"

"No, that wouldn't work."  
"I know King Charles does not have the same reputation as King Carlisle but surely he would want to help one of his subjects." Having lived all her life under the rule of a man called The Compassionate, Alice did not understand.

Isabella heaved another sigh.

"King Charles is or rather was my father."

Alice slid from her chair and fell to her knees in front of Isabella.

"Your Highness, please forgive me, I did not know. Please, my most humble thanks for what you have done for me."  
"Nonsense, Alice. Please get up. Do not prostrate yourself to me. I am no longer a Princess, just as those soldiers know you no longer as a witch. We are both on equal footing now." Isabella felt very uncomfortable. She had accepted her new life and did not want her old one to interfere with it.

Alice looked Isabella in the eye for a very long moment before resuming her seat.

"But 'tis true. I am a witch. I sell potions and spells to the locals."

"Oh." Isabella had no idea. "Tis no matter what you are."

Alice's eyes widened with delight. She clapped her hands and bounced in her chair. She had not felt such excitement for a long while. Her magic had been weak for the last few months and her spells were not fetching the price they usually did, hence the reason she was behind in her rent. The precipitous arrival of Princess Isabella seemed to restore some of that magic to her, she could feel that. Perhaps there would be a way to repay her kindnesses sooner rather than later.

"What will you do know? May I entreat you to stay with me?" Alice hoped.

"That is a fine and lovely offer and I would like to accept, however, I do wish to make my own way. To show my father it can be done. May I accept your hospitality for a few days before I continue my journey?"

Alice laughed.

"You paid the rent. It is more your home than mine right now."

Isabella joined in her laughter. She was starting to feel as though this was what it was like to have a real sister, a bosom friend.

They chatted well into the evening before preparing for bed. The sleeping loft in the cottage was small but cosy, with just enough room for two.

Alice felt rejuvenated and that happiness was reflected in the potions she created over the next few days. She vowed that when she encountered the warlock who drained her magic she would get even with him.

Alice had a profitable day at the marketplace and ran home to Isabella to tell her the news she had heard.

"Isabella, the palace is looking for a cook. It could be the work you were waiting for."

"Oh Alice, what wonderful news. I should make my way there and inquire." Isabella began to think of packing her belongings and making the journey through the town to the castle far on the other side.

"Not in those clothes or looking like you do, you shouldn't." Alice scrutinized her person, noting the now clean and elegant gown.

"Whatever do you mean?" Isabella saw nothing wrong with either her clothes or how she looked.

"You look too good, too noble. They won't take you seriously if you look too much like a lady. You need to be more like a servant, a worker. Your hair is too nice, your clothes too elegant and your skin too fair."

Isabella was now worried.

"What can we do?"

"A fair few things, all of them easy. We are roughly the same size, so I'll give you a few of my dresses. You will most likely receive a uniform when you get the position. I can restyle your hair and show you how to do that by yourself. We can rough up your fingernails and stain your hands a bit. And if you can trust my magic, I can make a lotion that will change your soft, milky skin into something less regal. Perhaps freckles or a scar?" Alice walked around and around Isabella as if to catalogue what needed changing.

"You may also want to limit your speaking. Your pattern of speech is too cultured and we don't have time for lessons in the local ways of speaking." Isabella nodded her agreement.

Alice busied her self with potion making while Isabella watched, her hands soaking in a brine of beetroot and carrot peelings. While Isabella was trying on some of Alice's dresses, Alice whispered a spell of protection, prosperity and good fortune into the freckle lotion she was preparing.

Isabella was pleased with the concoction Alice had readied. She was now sporting a sunshine glow about her cheeks as well as a smattering of soft brown freckles across her nose and forehead. Even the small scar was easy to look at, barely noticeable on her left cheek just under her eye. The effects of the lotion would last a whole day so Isabella would have to remember to apply it regularly.

When she was all ready to go she paused and felt her heart stutter. She would have to leave her only friend behind. For her it was a much more traumatic departure than when she had to leave her family.

"I shan't see you again, will I?"

Alice gathered her into a fierce hug.

"I'm not sure. Premonition has never been my strong suit, but I would like to think that we will see each other again. Thank you for everything you have done for me, Princess Isabella."

"It is I who should thank you, Alice. You are a good friend and an even better witch." Alice beamed and kissed her friend's cheek.

"Here, hide these in your bag. When you really need something, break one open and the thing you need will be inside." She handed Isabella five dark brown walnuts.

Isabella did not want to question Alice about then so she just stored the nuts in her small bag and bid her friend good-bye. The palace of King Carlisle was at least a days walk away and she needed to start on the next part of her journey.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. First of all, teehee Bella had a set of magic nuts. Sorry, the twelve year old boy in my house is messing with my maturity. Second, as much as I would like it, Isabella can't stay with Alice forever, she is on a mission (I can never write that phrase, on a mission, without thinking of The Blues Brothers, and then there's a song fest that goes with it and my whole day is shot until I listen to Tammy Wynette's Stand By Your Man, which then leads to Harper Valley PTA and D-I-V-O-R-C-E and a huge Country and Western thingy. And I don't really like C &W music. Sigh, I best get started.) Sometimes it's hard to be a woman...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 4

Isabella slept quite comfortably in a small copse of trees just in sight of the castle's curtain wall. She was near enough to the gatehouse where the prospective workers entered that she could enter the castle ground as early as possible. She hoped that she could lend a hand in the preparation of breakfast to show how well she could cook.

Dawn broke in with bright sunshine and warm breezes. Isabella woke with a smile on her face ready to start the next part of her adventure. She smoothed her dress, applied the lotion, and gathered her things. It was still quite early when she made her way to the gatehouse. She rang the bell and waited for the gatekeeper to answer, hoping that her early arrival would not anger him and he might, therefore, deny her entry.

After a lengthy delay the gatekeeper appeared. He was, without a doubt, the biggest, strongest, giant of a man Isabella had ever seen. What is next in this Kingdom of Witches and Giants, she wondered to herself. Could there be trolls and fairies as well?

Isabella backed away from the gate a few steps and craned her neck back to look at the man. He stood, his eyes almost able to peer over the gate, and stared at her for a moment.

"Please, sir," she squeaked in a very small voice, "I am here to apply for work in the kitchens."

His face broke into a grin, with massive dimples that just begged for the insertion of the tip of ones finger, and asked, what was to him, a very pertinent question.

"Can you make Marzipan? I adore Marzipan. Especially the little tiny fruit ones for Christmas. I'm not fond of the piggies, it makes me too sad to eat them, with their cute little faces. Their eyes just seem to stare into your soul and beg not to be eaten." He looked ever so much like a small boy in a giant man's body that Isabella could not help but laugh at him. She laughed kindly, of course, for she still had to gain access to the palace grounds.

"Yes, I can make Marzipan. I don't like to eat it, though, perhaps you could be my taste tester whenever I make a new batch."

"Wonderful, just wonderful." The giant swung open the gate and waited for Isabella to enter.

"My name is Emmett, I am the keeper of this gate." He bowed low to her.

"I am Isabella. I hope to cook in the castle." She curtsied back to him.

"Well, Isabella, just travel down this path here and it will lead you to the kitchen doors. Just give a nod to my lovely lady wife at the cottage down the road if you see her." Emmett pointed Isabella to the right path and watched her walk away while dreaming of little Marzipan apples.

A fair piece down the road Isabella came upon a lovely cottage about twice the size of Alice's. A massive vegetable garden was in front of it, with a few fat hens peeking around. By the door, a very heavily pregnant woman sat on a small stool. All around her were what seemed like dozens of children of various sizes. Isabella blinked rapidly to clear her eyes and tried to count the children again. She knew, having come from a family of seven girls that large families were common but the shear amount stunned her. There were many children, in fact, a perfect baker's dozen. Boys and girls, big and small, and dressed and undressed. Isabella shook her head in dismay, more at the undressed rather than the number, and stopped at the garden gate.

"Hello, good lady. The gatekeeper bade me give you a nod as I passed by."

The very tired, very pregnant lady smiled and held her arms out. Two of the bigger children grabbed a hold of her arms and helped her to her feet. She waddled over to the gate and stood in front of an astonished Isabella. The woman was beautiful. Her eyes were a shocking shade of blue, pale with a darker ring on the outside of the iris. She was very tall, standing at least a full head above Isabella. Her gown was a rich plum colour that set off the unusual colour of her eyes.

"Hello Miss. I'd thank you for the nod but, unfortunately, every time my husband gives me a nod I end up with child and I'm not quite finished with this one yet." She giggled and rubbed her belly.

"And if you were to give me a nod I'm not quite sure what would happen so let us just shake hands and say 'how do'. My name is Rosalie." Rosalie held out her right hand.

Isabella beamed at her. It was not her custom to shake hands but she tried it anyway.

"How do, Rosalie. I am Isabella. I've come to see about working in the castle kitchens."

"What did my fool husband make you promise to cook for him? He sits in the gatehouse every day just thinking about food. He eats as much as half the children together."

"Marzipan. Fruit shapes, not pigs because they make him feel guilty."

"Well, that's a new one. I swear that man has more cravings than I do." Rosalie laughed so hard her stomach was bouncing and Isabella was afraid that the action would topple Rosalie or dislodge the baby.

Several small voices started calling for Mama. Rosalie looked over her shoulder and then turned back to Isabella.

"Best of luck to you. I hope you get the job. If you do, please come to visit once in a while. I am in desperate need of adult conversation."

"T'would be my honour, Rosalie, to visit with you. Thank you for the luck. If you do not see me back along this road in a few hours, you'll know I was successful." Isabella waved her goodbye and continued down the path.

A good few minutes later she came upon another cottage nestled in the woods, just off the path. She could see the inner castle wall just ahead. As she neared the house she could hear the sound of someone chopping wood. It was on the far side of the cottage that she first saw him.

There, in the small side yard of the cottage, was a man. No, not just a man, the only man ever to catch Isabella's eye. He was responsible for the sounds that she had heard. He was perched atop a large log, furiously chopping it in half. There were small bits of wood clinging to his broad naked shoulders. Isabella could see his shirt draped over a near-by fence post. He was clad only in his breeches, stockings and boots. His hair was a tangled mess upon his head and flopped about with every stoke of his axe. The colour reminded Isabella of autumn. She could not see his face properly but knew, instinctively, that he was most handsome.

She stood for a few minutes watching him, wondering who he was, and glorifying in the display of masculine beauty in front of her. She had a very difficult time telling her feet that she had to keep moving. If she had her druthers she would stay and watch for the rest of time. Very, very reluctantly she made her self carry on to the kitchen in the castle.

The man took no notice of her what so ever.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. So, I did a little more research into the original fairy tale on which I am basing this little opus. Schnikies, it is gross. The King decides that he has to marry his own daughter and she runs away. In one version she doesn't run but dies in childbirth. There's not a chance in hell I'm using that story line, no matter how yummy Billy Burke might be.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 5

Prince Edward, The Stiff, as he was secretly called by all the young ladies in the kingdom and not for a lascivious reason, was, for lack of a better word, pouting. Trying to work out his anger by attacking a particularly thick log with a sharp axe was unresultant. At most, it made his shoulders hurt as much as his brain. The horrifying news he had received from his father was pounding a tympanic rhythm in his mind - have to get married, have to get married, have to get married. It was not as though he was against marriage, per se. However he was against Princesses. Pretty, petty, pink, petulant, posing, perky, prancing, placid, painted Princesses parading proudly before him and he would have to choose one.

He had already met most of the Princess from the neighbouring Kingdoms and he was not impressed. All his life he had been chased around the castle by girls wanting to kiss him, or hug him, or run their fingers through his hair. They left him love notes in the oddest places around his quarters. He had actually received a paper cut once in a most private place before discovering a note in the privy.

Edward gave up on the log and laid his axe down. He sat on the log, head in hand, entirely dismayed. He knew that, of course, he would have to choose a wife. His Kingdom depended on him to provide the stability marriage and heirs gave. Propagating his lineage was his main job. Ruling justly and fairly came secondary. His father had done his duty, produced an heir, but he had done so with a cold fish. Edward's mother was the epitome of regality. Aloof and beautiful, Queen Esmé floated around the castle giving orders to everyone, including her husband the King. She had not one maternal bone in her body. As soon as Edward was born she handed him off to a bevy of nurses and returned to her throne. He saw her a few times now and then but never really interacted with her.

His father, he knew well. Every lesson Edward needed in becoming a man, King Carlisle taught him. And now the culmination of all those lessons was the choosing of a wife. King Carlisle had not had the pleasure of choosing his own wife. Their marriage had been arranged as a political treaty. The first time he saw his intended, she was walking down the aisle on her father's arm to the alter.

A series of grand dances were in the planning for Edward to meet a suitable Lady. Every woman of noble breeding in the surrounding Kingdoms was to be invited. Edward would be required to meet and dance with all of them. From this pool he had to make his choice. His mother had wanted to arrange a bride for him but on this his father stood firm. Edward would be able to choose his own.

Therefore, Edward had stormed off to the small cottage at the edge of forest to think. It was the home of his favourite childhood nurse and he visited her often. He had taken to chopping wood for her as both a way to repay her for her kindness in his childhood and a means of clearing his mind. The vigorous activity was a balm for his troubles. Hopefully the noise of it would wake his old nurse and he could ask her opinion on the matter.

He was fairly sure of what she would say. He would have to decide for himself what sort of person with whom he could share his life. Then he had to go out and find the girl who matched that criteria as closely as possible, for no one person would be able to fulfil every specification. It was a familiar lecture, one he had heard many times before when ever he was plagued with a choice. Although this time it was the choice of wife and not of dessert.

Before too long he hear the small noises of someone moving about the cottage beside him. He stood and stretched, feeling the familiar ache in his muscles that accompanied hard work. He retrieve his shirt from the fencepost and after donning it, knocked on the cottage door to gain entry. His old nurse opened the door and delighted in his visit. She kissed his cheek and ushered him in for tea.

* * *

Isabella waited just inside the kitchen door to be granted a moment with the head chef. There were women, and a few men, racing about preparing all manner of breakfast dishes. One of them stopped in front of Isabella and demanded why she was there. The woman had to be the most angry looking person Isabella had ever seen. She wore a black dress so stiff it looked as though the woman could remove it and it would just stand there waiting for it's owner to return. The neckline was very high, almost swallowing the woman's face.

When Isabella mentioned that she was there to gain employment the woman started to walk away.

"I've no time for interviews now, we're short handed today, come back later."

"Wait, please, just throw me in the thick of it. If I displease you I'll go. If I don't displease you can interview me at your leisure. If you engage me or not, you need the help right now." Isabella stowed her bag in a corner by the door, well out of the traffic area. When the woman did not stop her, she walk to a sink and washed her hands. She walked over to a table where another young woman was peeling fruit, grabbed a knife and joined in.

The very angry housekeeper watched the new girl for a few seconds and then returned to her own tasks. She loathed pretty young things in her kitchen and this new girl was just that. Training kitchen girls to do things to her standards took time and pretty young things tended to run off and get married. She much preferred to hire more homely girls, girls like herself. Those girls appreciated hard work and a life long career in the castle kitchens.

The very angry housekeeper preformed her tasks perfectly, of course, and managed to keep an eye out for the unfortunately pretty new girl. It galled her to see the new wench working hard, cooking tidily, and seeming to fit into the dance of the other kitchen workers.

When the last of the myriad of dishes was completed and transported to the dining room, Isabella followed the housekeeper to her office.

"You can cook, I'll give you that. You seem to know your way around estate kitchens. I'll give you a trial but if you do not perform to my standards, I'll toss you out on your ear. The Prince is not looking to marry a kitchen wench so if that is your real motive, you can leave right now. You get room and board with every other Sunday afternoon off. I like to stagger my girls so that they perform at the pinnacle of perfection. You will be in the kitchen, ready for work every morning fifteen minutes after the spit boy knocks on your door. You will work through breakfast preparation and clean up and then back for dinner prep when luncheon has been cleared. For this you will receive three gold coins a month. Do you have any questions?"

Isabella just shook her head, afraid to speak lest she anger the housekeeper further. The entire interview, if it could be called that, took place at a decibel just shy of shouting.

"Good, make your mark in the ledger here for your uniform and then find Angela. You are to share her bed and she will give you a tour. Be back here just after lunch for your first assignment."

Isabella signed her name with very pretty handwriting, the housekeeper noted, and took the bundled uniform and went back to the kitchen to find Angela. She felt as though she could sleep for days. The tumult of the morning and the so-called interview weighed heavily on her shoulders. However, she had done what she set out to do. She had secured employment at a castle. Now she just had to bide her time until the rest of her plan could come to fruition.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Happy Victoria Day to those who celebrate. Happy Monday to those who don't. Just Day to those who are undecided.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 6

The indoor tour Angela gave Isabella was swift and concise. She was shown how to get to her room, the dining room, the laundry, the staff privy and washroom. As a cook there was no need to show her anything else. In her new bedroom she put on her new, heavily starched black uniform dress and white apron, cap and kerchief. It was a rather dour outfit definitely unsuitable for a Princess. Although, Isabella was pleased to have it for what it meant to her.

Isabella was pleased that she did not get lost navigating the maze of corridors as she made her way back to the kitchens. She felt guilty for having not helped with clean up as well as being responsible for taking Angela away from her tasks. After the kitchen was inspected and deemed clean enough to pass, Angela offered Isabella a tour of the kitchen gardens.

The gardens were magnificent. Row upon row of herbs, vegetables and edible flowers. Isabella's fingers itched to grab hold of some of the ingredients. She could imagine the lovely dishes she could create using just some of those herbs, the beautiful and delicate desserts set of by the tiny flowers that could be candied or sugared. Alas, although as much as she would love the chance to experiment she knew that as the newest cook in the kitchens, her jobs would be the most boring and menial. It would be a long time before she was allowed to play in the gardens or make use of it's splendour.

Isabella spun around and found Angela yawning. She apologized for taking so long to admire the gardens. The pair started to walk back to the kitchen when Isabella caught sight of the handsome wood chopper exiting the woods with several brace of birds slung over his shoulder. More the pity, he had donned his shirt again and there was no more glimpses of broad unclothed torso. Isabella felt slighted that she was unable to even learn his name as she and Angela left the kitchen before he came to deliver his birds.

She and Angela both fell onto the small bed in their room fully clothes and quickly relaxed into napping. All too soon it was time to return to the kitchen to begin the evening meal. The very angry housekeeper presented Isabella with an ingeniously wheeled basket piled high with the dead pheasants from the wood chopper. She also gave Isabella another smaller basket to carry. It was full of loaves of bread. Tucked on top was a small package that Isabella was told was her lunch. Isabella was instructed to take the birds down the road to the gatekeeper's wife for their preparation. She was thrilled with the idea of seeing Rosalie again and overjoyed that this was her first task.

Isabella all but skipped down the path, Trundled basket in one hand, carrying basket in the other. She slowed down when she passed the cottage on the edge of the woods. She was a little put out that the handsome man was nowhere in sight as she walked by. No matter, she was sure to see him at another time, she was certain.

It was a short time later when Isabella arrived at the gatekeeper's cottage. There were only five children roiling about the gardens, all of them large, but strangely silent in their play. Rosalie was just exiting the home when Isabella stopped at the fence. Rosalie waved her in and sat on her stool. The largest girl child scrambled into the house and came back quickly with hand full of white cloth spotted with red.

"Come on up and show me what we have for today." Rosalie called to Isabella.

Another child came out of the house carrying several stools. When the first child laid the cloth down on the ground, the other placed the stools at the edges of the fabric in a semi-circle.

Isabella pulled the little buggy up the walkway and presented it to Rosalie. She then passed her the basket of bread and took a seat on the nearest stool.

"Oh goody, pheasants. Five brace, too. Lovely birds, pheasants, beautiful plumage. All right, children, grab one each and let's get started. These beauties won't pluck themselves. Careful of the tail feathers, those are the ones the milliner really wants." She threw a cheeky wink in Isabella's direction and began plucking the bird she held in her lap.

"We'll have these done in a trice, Ducks. Just eat you lunch and leave the rest to us. I'm the fastest plucker in the kingdom and the ogre knows that. I do her birds and she trades me for baked goods or some such things. I sell the good feathers to various trades people around the town."

"Who's the ogre?"

"The head housekeeper at the castle, the battleaxe who sent you here. No one knows her name except maybe the Queen or the head butler. Speaking of names, Ducks, yours is just too posh for the likes of us. Could you fancy Bella instead?"

Isabella was shocked by the speed at which feathers were flying about as Rosalie attacked her second bird.

"Bella would be fine, nice even." Isabella smiled.

"Good, then you call me Rose and we are even. Eat your lunch, Bella. You won't get to eat again till after the swells get their dinner."

Isabella nodded and laughed a little at the face Rose pulled at the mention of the Royal family and court.

As soon as Rose finished her second pheasant, the largest boy child gathered up all the finished birds and disappeared around the back of the house. Bella could hear the sound of the axe and realized that the child was cleaning the birds too. For this Bella was very happy because cooking birds was one things, gutting them was another all together.

Bella finished her lunch just a Rose finished her last pheasant. Rose managed to pluck four in the same time it took her children to do one each. The girls sorted the feathers and tidied up. The boys finished the cleaning and presented Bella with five cloth wrapped bundles to pack in the buggy. Rose walked her to the garden gate to say their goodbyes.

"I'm so happy you got the job and pulled poultry duty. The last girl was sour and smelled a bit of vinegar. I'll most likely see you in a few days. After a haul like this he probably won't check his traps for a day or two." Rosalie looked down and brushed a few stray feathers off her enormous stomach. Bella decided to be brave and ask the question that had been burning in the back of her mind.

"Who is he, the trapper? I saw him chopping wood the morning."

Rose snorted and grinned at Bella.

"That must have been quite the sight. Pity I missed it. Beautiful man, isn't he? That's Prince Edward, heir to the throne."

 **AN: Thank you for reading. I have nothing plucky to say today.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 7

King Charles held the invitation in his hand and cursed his bad luck. He had only three daughters left to arrange marriage for and none of them were old enough for Prince Edward. It served no purpose for him to pack up the girls and take them to King Carlisle's domain. More the pity that the one daughter he had disowned would have been perfect for the role. He hadn't spared a moments thought about the whelp since he had her turned out. Now, he needed her back and there was no way to find her. If she were to wed into that family his reputation would be salvaged. The marriage he had arranged for Margaret went as horribly awry as these things could go. The King he had promised her to was now threatening action and demanding a stiff payment.

Margaret travelled to the nearby Kingdom with many pieces of fine jewellery and several bags of gold. The situation was pleasant enough, her intended had recently lost his second wife and needed a third. However, just after she arrived in the far off land, the nasty little package ran off with one of the King's Falconers taking the jewellery and gold with her. The letter she wrote her father spoke of true love, love at first sight, kismet, destiny and all sorts of other drivel. She refused to tell him where she was now but intelligence reports told him she was on her way overseas.

Upon hearing about the Duke and the Earl he had arranged to marry the first set of twins, and the realization that they were to be permanently separated, the girls had rebelled and ran off in the middle of the night to join a convent in the next Kingdom. Now the blighters, who he could never discern from the other, were married to a heavenly being and there would be no heirs produced from that union. He did not know they were even pious.

Now he was left with three even more useless than before daughters and an invitation to a series of balls for one of the most eligible Princes this era has ever seen. He cursed the messenger, he cursed his daughters, and then he declined the invitation.

* * *

Isabella was dumbfounded. In the three weeks she had been working in the castle of King Carlisle, she had seen Prince Edward several times and it never ceased to shock her every time. It wasn't just that he was handsome, good lord he was handsome, but he was the complete antithesis of every Prince she had ever known. Whenever he visited the kitchens, either to drop of that day's bounty or to steal a tasty morsel, he did so with a ready smile and kind words of thanks. Although there were usually around forty people working in the kitchens at any given time he seemed to know the names of most of them. He was particularly kind to the spit boy and Isabella saw him once take over the spit so that the boy could disappear for a few minutes, presumably to relieve himself.

The only person he wasn't jovial and kind to was Isabella herself. It wasn't as if he were unkind but rather he didn't notice her at all. His eyes glossed over her and he never acknowledged her presence. Not even when he encountered her alone in the garden. Isabella was harvesting some lovage and he walked right by her to pluck some carrots. Isabella had stopped and knelt in the dirt stock still as he walked by. She stared at him and, as if he could feel her eyes, he looked around before bending down and grabbing a handful of leafy green carrot tops. He knocked the roots against one raised boot and exited the garden without meeting her eye once. It was almost as if he couldn't see her, like he was incapable of seeing her.

It was a mystery that prevented Isabella from resting at night. She knew that with Alice's lotion her appearance had changed. Several of her sisters had told her time and again that she was plain and not the most attractive of the family. That title had gone to Charlotte, by popular vote between the girls. However, she knew that she wasn't hideous, just a little more common looking than before. She rather liked the changes Alice had given her. She felt that her face had more character now.

Isabella did not understand why his incapability to look at her bothered her so. Except that she wanted him to see her, she desperately wanted him to notice her. There was something inside her that knew, that was certain without any doubt, that he was the one for her. She would have to do something to catch his eye. However she had absolutely no idea what it was she was going to do.

The ogre had called everyone down earlier to tell them of the increased work to come. The King had called for three fancy dress balls to take place in the near future. The aim of these dances was to secure Prince Edward a bride. The news of this pierced Isabella's heart like a dagger. She was going to lose him to a Princess. That thought almost made her void her stomach until she remembered that she used to be a Princess herself. In truth she had forgotten, having been so well enveloped into the serving class, it had slipped her mind.

There was something else that had slipped her mind and the remembering of it made her sit bolt upright in the middle of the night. The magic walnuts Alice had given her were hidden just underneath the wardrobe she shared with Angela. Alice had said to break one open when she found she was in need of something. She was in need now.

Isabella carefully slid from the bed and rummaged under the wardrobe until her fingers closed around two of the nuts. She stole through the corridors as quiet as a mouse and tiptoed into the garden to take advantage of the moonlight. She sat herself down on the dirt so that she was hidden in between the lavender and rosemary. She found a flat rock and cracked open the walnut. There was a small puff of white smoke and something very unexpected floated out.

It was a very simple gold ring. Isabella took it from where it was floating in front of her and placed it in the palm of her hand. She turned it over and over looking at it from every different angle. There was nothing remarkable about it, it was just a thin gold band. She tried it on a few different fingers before she found that it fit best on the index finger of her right hand. Nothing miraculous happened when the ring was in place. No angels sang. No fireworks erupted. It was a bit of a let down for Isabella. For she had hoped for some great sign to tell her what to do. She took the other magic walnut from her pocket and debated cracking it open. She sighed when she decided against it. She stealthily made her way back to her room and crawled into bed, careful not to disturb Angela. She looked at the ring again. She knew to trust Alice's magic, it had served her well before. She would just have to wait to see what the ring could do.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. If this was a western and not a fairy tale I would have prefaced this chapter with 'Mean while, back at the Ranch'. So, the sisters will not be getting their grubby hands on our Edward and Bella now has The Precious in her possession. Tune in tomorrow for another instalment of 'what hell is going on with this story?'.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 8

The ring felt heavy on Isabella's finger as she preformed her duties the next day. All during breakfast preparation she was aware of it. She struggled not to pause and look a her hand many times over. Thankfully no one else noticed the new adornment.

Isabella was quite busy working when Prince Edward came to the kitchen. Her back was turned to him so she did not see the object of her burgeoning affections. He laid a dozen partridges on the poultry table and quickly left the room. Something in the kitchen that day made him feel uneasy and he hasten his retreat without speaking to anyone.

The ogre called Isabella over and had her pack the trundle buggy with the small birds. The other basket was already packed with a veritable mountain of pasties for Rosalie and her family. Isabella secured both and started on her journey down the path. The walk was uneventful although she could hear a rustling noise in the forest as she travelled. She though it most likely to be a rabbit or some other small creature.

Isabella arrived to a great shock. Rose was waiting for her at the garden gate with a small bundle in her arms.

"Greeting to you, Bella. Look who came just after you left the other day. Impatient this one, I barely had time to put my teacup down and she made her arrival. We named her Isabella. I do hope you don't mind. It's not that I think you are impatient, too, but after thirteen others I'd all but run out of names. Yours was the first that popped into mind as we cleaned her up. Here, you hold her, I'll take the baskets." Rose had said all this in one breath, Bella was certain. It seems as though Rose has much more energy now having given birth. Those poor partridges, Isabella thought.

Bella found herself relieved of her baskets and plunked on to a stool, baby in hand, in very short order. A strange sort of thump-like noise emanated from the trees. Bella looked up to see the cause but found nothing and turned her attention back to the baby.

"We thought we'd call her Tizzy to differentiate from you. Can't have too many Bellas, we learned that lesson with Emmett junior, neither of them knew at whom I was yelling unless I used the junior part." Rose prattled on as she attacked the partridges.

"I'm so glad for the pasties. Now I don't have to cook tonight, if I can keep the younger ones from getting to them first."

Isabella barely heard anything Rose was saying. Her attention was solely in the baby in her arms. Her eyes were kept captive by the hazy blue ones staring at her. She hadn't held a child this age since Katie was born. She stroked one finger across the downy cheek and smiled. She hoped that one day she could have a child of her own.

Rose had to call her name three times before she broke her gaze with Tizzy. The partridges were finished and it was time for Bella to go back to the castle. She kissed the little cheek and passed the babe back to her mother. Bella kissed Rose's cheek, too, and congratulated her on her new arrival. She was still in a bit of a baby daze as she walked back to work. She didn't notice the tree root that grabbed her foot and sent her sprawling.

Isabella groaned, her hands were full of mud and her ankle twisted. She knew the Ogre would have a fit when she got back to the kitchens. If she could get back to the kitchens. She wasn't sure if her ankle would allow that. She lay where she fell for a few minutes deciding the best course of action. She was just about to roll over and check the damage when she heard the rustling in the forest again but this time louder. The noise got closer and closer and Isabella feared that she was about to be attacked by some strange, large animal when Prince Edward broke through the trees.

Isabella had barely raised her head when he rushed over to her and dropped down beside her. He reached out one hand but did not touch her.

"Have you been hurt?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine, Sir. Thank you for asking." She rolled to the side and sat up. She did not know how to address him. Was she supposed to know who he was when they had never been introduced. Having had no interaction with the royal family here, she had no idea what their preference was for their staff to address them. She couldn't even curtsey in this condition.

Isabella brushed the dirt from her hands and started to stand. Prince Edward extended one hand to her and she looked at it for a moment before taking it. She stood on her good leg and dropped his hand with a very quiet 'thank you'. She waited thinking that now that she was upright he would go on his way and she could limp home in private. She gingerly tested her weight on her injured ankle. It was sore but not too bad, she could make her way back to the castle taking her time at it.

Prince Edward was still standing before her. The trundled buggy lay on it's side just behind her. She made to bend at the knee to get it when the Prince sprang forward and righted it for her. Again she thanked him. She took a few steps to where the other empty basket had fallen and retrieved it without the Prince's help.

"Thank you for all you help, Sir. A good day to you." Isabella bobbed a passable curtsey and restarted her trip back to the castle. She was surprised to hear the Prince walking along beside her.

"May I accompany you? We are going in the same direction, I think."

"Of course, Your Highness, I serve at your pleasure and it would be an honour to have you accompany me." Isabella was thrilled but scared to have the Prince escort her.

"Oh you work in the castle? I've never seen you there before."

"I've only been there a month, Sir."

"A month? My eyes must be failing me. 'Tis for sure I would have noticed you before today." He paused and thought over the last month. He had been jailed inside his own mind over the necessity of finding a bride. Perhaps this was the reason she had slipped past his notice.

The more Isabella walked, the more her ankle pained her. She tried very hard not to favour it or limp. She did not want to call attention to it. It was unseemly to her to play the damsel in distress before the handsome Prince. She despised such coquettish games.

However, try as she may, the Prince did notice the change in her gait.

"You have done yourself a turn, haven't you. If you lay down your baskets I could carry you back to the castle."

Isabella stopped walking and looked at him aghast. It was one thing for him to walk with her but for him to carry her, well, if her former position were renewed and anyone saw, her reputation would be tattered beyond repair. In her current situation, if the ogre saw her in the arms of the Prince, she would be dismissed in an instant. As much as the idea of being held by him appealed to her she had to decline. He tried an other tactic.

"Perhaps if I were to take the wheeled one you could take my other arm as support?"

"Thank you, Sir. It is very kind of you to offer." He took the handle of the basket from her hand and held out his arm for her. She slipped her arm through his and they began to walk again.

"Now that I have you in my clutches, might I know your name?"

"Of course, Sir. My name is Bella." She though it best to use her new nickname, just in case the news of King Charles disowning his daughter had reached this Kingdom.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Bella."

"Likewise, Your Highness."

They moved in silence for a while until the small cottage that sat at the edge of the wood came into view signalling the end of their journey together.

"I'm afraid I must part with you now, Your Highness. If the Housekeeper were to see me bothering you she's have my head and then my job. I do thank you for your kindness and your help, Sir." Isabella took the buggy back and dropped a curtsey once more. Prince Edward, although he wanted to, did not try to dissuade her. He knew the reputation of the head housekeeper very well.

"Farewell, Bella." He watched as she walked away, her gait still slightly uneven. He watched until he could see her no longer then he rushed to the door of the cottage, calling for his nurse.

"Nanny, Nanny, I think I've found her." He shouted while pounding his fist on the door.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. It's like pulling teeth to get these two to talk to each other. Just so you know, their interaction is intentionally stilted. She is still in hiding and he is the wrong kind of stiff. Oh well, we may get a look into Edward's psyche tomorrow.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Long, boring AN at the end.**

 **Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 9

The elderly nurse opened the door and was surprised by the crazed look on the Prince's face. The normally staid Prince had spots of colour high on his cheeks and his eyes were ablaze. She moved back from the door to allow his entry. He took a seat on the small stool by the fire, it was his spot, his refuge from courtly life. She stood behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. Her touch grounded and soothed him. He began his story at the beginning.

"This morning I was in the kitchens with a catch and I got the oddest feeling. There are no words to explain it. But it stayed with me all morning. I let the kitchens as fast as I could and walked into the forest. I wandered for a bit but then decided to visit you. As I neared the path I felt it again but stronger. Then a girl passed by. I followed her. I was compelled, I just had to follow her. I'd never seen before but she was wearing a kitchen uniform so I knew she had come from the castle. She stopped at Emmett's cottage and started talking to Rosalie. Rosalie passed her the new baby and something just struck me." He stopped his narration for a moment and closed his eyes in remembering.

"The sight of her with a babe in her arms. It knocked me to the ground and I just sat there at watched her hold the baby. I guess Rosie took care of the birds, I didn't notice, then it was time for her to leave so I followed her again. She took a hard spill in the dirt and I ran over to help but then she did the most amazing thing. Or rather she did not do what I expected her to do. She spoke to me calmly and eloquently. She didn't titter, giggle or fuss. She acted nothing like any other woman, it was disarming, really. She finally accepted my help but did not fling herself at me. She stood on her own, even though she was injured and tried valiantly to hide said injury. She didn't simper or flirt."

He shook his head in disbelief. She acted nothing like all the Princess that were due to arrive in the next few days.

"She held herself with grace and poise. She refused my offer to carry her back to the castle but she did take my arm. The feelings that overtook me when she held my arm were almost transcendent. I can't, just, I can't. However, it felt, it felt right. As she was meant to be at my side. I couldn't speak or think. I wasted the opportunity. I should have asked every question under sun but I only managed to find the courage to ask her name. But, as soon as the castle came into view, she left me. She didn't want to be caught with me."

He looked up at his old nurse, the woman who had raised him and taught him. She was more a mother to him than his own flesh and blood. For this he loved her fiercely. He needed answers but he had no idea what questions to ask first.

"Why? I need to know why. What is happening to me? Please Nanny, help me."

"Oh my poor, dear child. It is confusing, isn't it, when one first falls in love. Rather like being struck by lightening, I reckon."

"Love? Is this love?"

"It sounds a lot like it, from what I've heard. What is her name, this magical creature you have met?"

Prince Edward stood and scrubbed his hands over his face. He began pacing around the room, his footsteps eating up the small space quickly.

"Bella, her name is Bella." He sighed as her name passed his lips.

"And is she the most perfect, most beautiful girl you have ever seen?"

This question took him aback. He thought of her face, her hair tucked up under it's cap, the horrible, shapeless dress she wore.

"No, I have seen more beautiful than her. Her face shows wear, like years of hard work, there are sunspots on her forehead and nose. There is a small scar under her eye. She is short and slight. But the way she holds herself with dignity and pride, not pride at her appearance but, I can't explain it. I could see her faults, if one could call them faults, and they did not matter to me. It matters not to me what she looks like, but to me she is beautiful just because. Does that make any sense to you? For it makes none to me, and it comes from my own mind."

"It make perfect sense to me. I will explain it to you, but not just yet. I want to meet her. Find a way to bring her to me tomorrow. I wish to meet her before anything more happens. However, do try not to let her know why I want to see her or who I am."

"As you wish, Nanny."

* * *

Isabella was surprised to be pulled aside by the ogre the next day and sent on an errand just after breakfast was completed. A full covered basket was pressed into her hands and she was ordered to go to the cottage at the edge of the forest.

She had never seen signs of life from the cottage since the first time seeing Prince Edward chopping wood there many days ago. She tried very hard to not have any discernible reaction to the instructions lest the ogre saw. She hoped that maybe, just maybe she would meet Prince Edward there. Perhaps she could talk with him again. There was something strangely unsatisfying about the way she left Prince Edward the other afternoon. She had no idea what is was that she wanted to say to him.

Isabella all but pinched herself. She had no right to even think about the Prince. She was a kitchen helper, not a Princess, well, no longer a Princess. No good could come of meeting with the Prince. She was caught between a rock and a hard place with no respite.

She knock on the cottage door and waited for someone to open it. She was surprised to find an older woman answering her knock. Isabella curtseyed and held out the basket.

"Come in, child. I wish to speak to you."

Confused, Isabella entered the small cottage. There was a gay fire in the grate and the cottage was inviting.

"Sit, child. My name is Tia. Thank you for bringing the basket, it is nice to have one's meals provided once in a while. Tell me, are you hungry, Bella?" The old woman puttered around the fire while asking her questions.

Isabella was shocked.

"No, thank you, I'm not hungry. How do you know my name?"

"That is neither here nor there. I need to know your motivations, Bella. I think you are after something very, very special to me and if your intentions are not pure, I will do everything in my power to see you fail. I can see the magic around you." Tia stopped speaking just long enough to seat herself comfortably.

"So, tell me, Princess, why are you here? And where did you get that ring?"

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Now, according to the ficsisters all of you are coming over for tea so I need to lay down some house rules: 1- According to the kid, pants are optional. 2-According to my eldest cat, Alice, aged 17, you will sit and rub her head for a minimum of two hours and no less. 3- Please just ignore the cat-hair tumbleweeds, there is a very valid reason why my name is shouldbecleaning, don't go in the spare room upstairs, it will only haunt your dreams.**

 **All snarkyness aside, thank you ficsisters for the lovely review. I am honoured to be included, especially with such esteemed company. Okay, onward with the voyage of the snark.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 10

Isabella nervously turned the ring around and around on her finger. She stared at the woman seated across from her. There was something compelling about her, something that made Isabella want, no, need to tell her the truth. And so she did. She told her everything, from birth to present day. About her father, King Charles, his contest, her sisters and salt. About Alice and the soldiers, Rosalie and marzipan, just everything, but she left out anything to do with Prince Edward. That part of the story needed to stand on it's own.

"I saw him first here outside this cottage. He was chopping wood. I found myself drawn to him, I do not know why. I hadn't spoken to him or seen his face but there was something very enthralling about him. However, I wasn't here to gain a suitor or find a romance. I was here to gain employment and to find a way to explain myself to my father." Isabella refused to say what her plans for her father were, this was her secret and would remain her's alone.

"I saw him again in the garden with a few brace of birds. I was then sent back to Rosalie only to find out the he was the Prince of this Kingdom. It crushed my heart to know that the man who so intrigued me was unobtainable to me as a junior cook in his kitchens. I observed him from a far and what I saw only served to crush my heart further. He is kind, gracious and attentive. He knows many people in the kitchens and is friendly with the spit boy. Most Princes I have known are so far removed from those whose lives are given to their daily comforts, that they almost have a contempt for them. My own father could care less about the people who prepare his meals and cater to his every whim. He does not understand the value of those who work for us. I knew this before I left his control."

Isabella's graze was drawn to the fire as she collected her thoughts. For the next part of her story was conflicting and confusing.

"I am torn in two. You already know that I am a Princess. I am of royal blood and training. But I am also just a cook and servant." She cleared her throat and got to the meat of her story.

"I used Alice's magic to my advantage. Her potion to change my appearance helped to secure this position. I opened the nut and the ring floated out. Like a silly girl I put the ring on my finger. I do not want to use magic to gain the affection of the Prince. However, I do want to gain those affections. By your reaction, I gather that this ring has more magic in it than just the power that brought it to me. But I do not know what magic the ring has and if the ring is the only way to gain the Prince's regard, then I do not want it.

"Do I fully come out of hiding and present myself as a Princess? But then, my father disowned me, can I even been considered a Princess? Do I try to win the Prince as a servant? I don't believe the King and Queen would allow that. Do I confess my past to the Prince and let him decided lest he think me false for my deception? I do not even know if the Prince holds me in any regard let alone a favourable one. He might have just been kind to be kind." Isabella was getting more and more frustrated with each question.

"Slow down and calm yourself, child." Tia reached for her and gathered her in her arms. The maternal hug held more magic in it than Isabella had felt in all her time on this earth. It soothed her to her very soul. She calmed her breathing and relaxed her heart.

"There, there, deary. Are you better now?" Isabella nodded and wiped her hands across her cheeks.

"I can't answer your questions for you. Even if I had the answers you need to find them for yourself. It is the only way to complete the magic."

"Are you a witch?"

"No, but my mother was. I can sometimes see magic around others. But I can not work it myself. Tell me, what did you want when the ring came to you?"

"For truth, I only wanted him to see me, to notice me. When he would come to the kitchen it was as if I were invisible, his eyes would pass over me. I had no other intentions. I know that he is to be married soon, that he would have to choose a bride from the Princesses at the balls. But how can he choose if he does not see all the options. Even if the option is not favourable it is still an option. I guess I wanted the briefest glimmer of a chance."

"Then that is why you received the ring." Tia smiled indulgently at Isabella. She would be perfect. She could be everything Tia had ever wanted for her boy.

"But what does the ring do? What powers does it possess?"

"That I do not know. I only know it has a magic to it."

"Then I do not want it." Isabella took off the ring and laid it on the table.

"Are you sure, child?" Tia picked up the ring and held it out to her.

"No, I'm not sure but I don't want to take advantage." Her finger's itched to take it back but her mind was set. She would let some things unfold naturally.

"Have you other plans to win the heart of my Edward?" The idea of this girl with her precious boy warmed her heart and she would do what she could to aid them both.

"A bevy of Princesses are on their way to try to win his heart. You have two weeks at the most."

"I know. 'Tis not much time"

"And you wish to try with out magic?"

Isabella gave Tia a sly look.

"Well, I might not use the ring but there are other forms of magic. Alice's gifts may come in handy. I may use those but I don't want to use something that might render his affections false. If I can win his heart I would want to know that he was not magically possessed to do so. What will you tell him?" Isabella feared that perhaps she would warn him away from her.

"As little as possible, I think. Just as you have to find your own way, so does he."

Isabella nodded and thanked the old woman for her kindness and help. With empty basket in hand she made her way back to the castle, her thought jumbled.

Tia sat back, her teacup empty, and felt badly for having misled the girl. While she could easily demand the truth from others she could hide it from them just as well.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. This kicked my ass. Stupid ring won't reveal it's magic. I can't rescue the damned bears on soda crush and my whole day is shot. I need to cuddle kittens.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 11

Tia thought about little other than Edward and Isabella for the rest of the day. She half expected Edward to visit and demand information about the girl but the repeated sounds of horse drawn carriages meant that he was trapped in the castle. Tia was both saddened and relieved. For the story of the ring was not one she was proud of and not one she wanted to share with Edward. The story could be interpreted in two ways and one of them might lead to Edward be angry with her.

When she had the ring fashioned it was with an eye to protect Edward from those who would do him falsely. The charm she commissioned from a wandering warlock served it's purpose. It had kept Edward from falling for anyone but his true match. Young men can sometimes be made to believe that what they feel is pure love when many a time it is just interest with a healthy dose of lust. Not that lust is a bad thing, well, at least from what Tia could remember of lust. With a sigh and a giggle at the idea of lust in her very advance age, Tia stood and stoked the fire.

She hadn't intended the ring to fetter Edward as it had. Instead of keeping him from falling for the wrong woman, it kept his heart firmly chained. He had no inclination for romance and no confidence in what he was now feeling.

When rumours of his nickname floated up to her, she tried to disenchant the ring. She first stopped wearing it, for the protection came from her heart. Then she tried to burn it. When that did nothing she buried it and salted the earth in hopes that it would never resurface. She was shocked when she saw it on the girl's finger. Another's magic had given the ring to the girl and by having it on her finger it caused his heart to recognize hers.

Now she was afraid that either of them would think their love to be false and magically engineered. But that was not the case. For it was fate alone that had brought them together and no amount of magic could change fate. All she had to do was convince Edward and Isabella of that.

* * *

After the arrival of far too many Princesses and their entourages, Prince Edward had too many duties to attend. There was no time for him to visit with Tia, no time for him to hunt or check his traps, and no time for him to haunt the kitchens. For as much as he wanted to see Bella again he knew his duty to his Kingdom came first. The castle was awash in glittering girls and dour nurses. A mind altering din of squeals and giggles seemed to permeate the stone walls and bounce along the corridors. While he was able to escape the clutches of many of the ladies, Edward was forced to meet with the fathers, uncles and brothers of said ladies.

It was a tedious business. Glad handing, smiling, and pretending to be interested in all the minutiae of other realms drained all joy from him. The longer he was separated from Bella the more time he had to think of the appropriateness having an interest in a girl from the kitchen. His mother would never permit it. Even if Edward could swear that she was the love of his life, and he wasn't quite ready to do that, the fact that she was a servant was unavoidable. She was a servant and he a Prince. He knew that he would have to exhaust all other avenues before he could try to claim Bella. He would have to suffer through meeting and dancing with every Princess who attended the Balls.

In a perfect world, Bella would attend the dances as a Princess. He would see her across the crowded room, the music from the orchestra would swell as the noise from all the other attendees would dim as if they were not there. Edward would walk slowly over to her and take her hand. He would declare to all there that she was the only one for him and they would dance, impressing everyone with their grace and elegance. She would stare deeply into his eyes and an intriguing blush would creep up her cheeks. His wry chuckle would be heard by those around them as he lowered his head to engage her in the first kiss to mark the start of their epic romance.

He would take her over to his father who would bless the union. His mother would be so pleased that her cold heart would melt as she took Bella in an embrace to welcome the girl as her daughter. The cheers of the other Kings and courtiers would all but deafen them as the left the Ball together. The next morning they would be wed and live happily ever after in love with each other. Edward would eventually become King and rule his land with intelligence. Bella would become the Queen of everyone's hearts and be held in the highest regard. Their child would be happy. Their Kingdom secure. Their lives perfect.

Alas, this was not a perfect world and tales of Princes marrying kitchen servants were the stuff of fairy tales and Edward knew them to be false. He did dream, however, as it was all he could do.

In reality, as he passed a group of bookmakers betting which Princess Edward would chose, he made his way to the throne room, summoned by his mother, Queen Esmé. He bowed low before her and listened to her tirade about which Princess was more suitable than the other and her list of the top ten he was to choose from. The icing on the cake was when Queen Esmé called him Edmund when she was yelling at him.

In reality, Bella was working in the kitchens, exhausted from the extra tasks that had to be done. There was no end in sight as piles and piles of vegetables dwarfed her workspace. There was no time for her to think about Edward, Tia, the ring or the endless supply of suitable Princesses frothing at the mouth to get their hands on a piece of Prince Edward. Her day would only end when all the dishes were done, the kitchen cleaned, and the Ball in full swing. Then she would have time to think and maybe, just maybe, open another of Alice's enchanted walnuts to see if there was a solution to her problems.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Sigh, it is always darkest before the dawn. Tomorrow, we dance.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 12

When Bella's work was finally finished, she stole away to a quiet corner of the castle tucked behind a tapestry. Although she was conflicted about the use of magic to win Prince Edward's heart, she had taken one of the walnuts with her when she began her shift in the kitchen. Her mental argument was mostly due to the fact that Tia did not know what powers the ring had. Perhaps another try at magic would reveal a simpler solution.

After a few moments of internal debate, she broke open the walnut and waited. Nothing floated out of the broken shell. She was quite disappointed. She gathered the pieces of shell and stood. It was then that she noticed that her black uniform dress was gone. In it's place was a beautiful silvery taffeta ball-gown. There were long white gloves on her hands, covering her up to her elbow. The bodice of the gown was embroidered with tiny shimmering stars. It was cinched tight at her waist and lifted her breast so that the tops just peak over the square neckline. She lifted one gloved hand and touched her hair. Instead of the utilitarian bun she had to wear in the kitchen, her hair was a mass of small braids curled around each other and held together with what felt like small pearls. She looked around outside her hiding place and spotted a looking glass at the end of the hall. She ran over and stared at her reflection. Isabella looked every bit the Princess she used to be, except the gown she was wearing was more lovely than any she or her sisters had ever worn.

She lifted the full skirts just enough to peer down at the silver slippers on her feet. With a very uncharacteristic giggle, she walked as quickly as she could to the ballroom. She needed Prince Edward to see her, dresses regally, just this once. This was the kind of magic she preferred. There was little subterfuge in a fancy dress.

Isabella slipped into the ballroom unseen and hid herself amidst the other revellers. She watched the people dancing, keeping a careful eye out for Prince Edward. She accepted a glass of wine from a passing steward and sipped it slowly. Dresses of every colour of the rainbow swirled around and around the dance floor. Like a kaleidoscope the effect was almost dizzying.

It seemed to take a very long time before Prince Edward came in to view, but when he did, he all but took her breath away. She hadn't seen him in fancy dress before, for he was usually dressed more plainly to stump about the forest looking for birds. He wore a dark bottle green frock coat and breeches, so dark that they seemed almost black at times. Under the coat there was a gold brocade waistcoat and white cravat. He looked very elegant and extremely regal. He also looked bored. Whether he was bored with his current dance partner or with the entire event, Isabella could not be sure.

She watched from the side of the dance floor as he exchanged partner after partner. Prince Edward preformed his duties well, he bowed to every new lady, smiled and danced with a grace that most men do not have. He ended each dance with a kiss upon the Princesses gloved hand and a thank you. He never danced with the same woman twice, that Isabella saw.

The leader of the orchestra announced the last dance, much to the dismay of many of the ladies. There was a heavy collective sigh just after the announcement. As the first notes began, Prince Edward bowed to his partner, an unusually tall lady in a red dress overlaid with black netting. He ignored the predatory look in her eye and asked his standard script of questions. She had no insights to offer but continued to stare at him as if she was preparing to consume him. It was very unsettling for the Prince but not the first time that evening he feared a lady. Most were of the giggling, tittering kind that could not string two words together properly, but some were these animalistic, scary ones. One lady, if she could really be called a lady, had the temerity to grasp his buttock just as their dance ended. He felt shocked and frankly, a little soiled. None of these Princesses had the dignity, grace or poise of his Bella.

He would have given everything he had to have her here at the Ball. Perhaps she could save him from all these insufferable Princesses. Just her presence alone would soothe him. But she was in the kitchen toiling away at work to feed all these people. With her stiff black dress she would never fit in with this glittered crowd. He sighed with boredom. He was tired of it all. Tired of the dance, the music and the company. None of the Princesses he had been forced to dance with would make him a suitable bride. None of the captured his attention as surely as his little kitchen maid had.

It was then that he saw her. He did not know who she was but there was just something about the lady he laid eyes on. She was turned in profile to him. Her rich dark hair piled on her head seemed to twinkle. Her dress reminded him of moonbeams, it was the same silvery colour. She was slowly making her way through the crowd to leave the dance. He tried to release the viper in red that was clinging to him, but she refused to let go until the last note sounded.

He followed the lady in grey with his eyes until she was swallowed up by the masses. He vowed to him self that he would find her at the next Ball tomorrow and dance with her. He was fairly confident that she would not have all the appeal of his Bella but there was something about this Princess he had to figure out. He was sure that with one dance over and out of his system, the mystery of her would be solved. She would prove to be yet an other painful Princess, as insufferable as the rest.

With a heavy heart, Isabella left the ballroom. There was only so much she could take of watching Prince Edward with another in his arms. She trudged back to where she had broken the magic walnut behind the tapestry hanging. Her uniform was folded and tucked into a corner. With a great deal of difficulty and sadness she removed the shimmering grey dress and put on the stiff black. She refashioned her hair, putting the pearl pins in her pocket. She folded the grey dress carefully and carried it up to her room. Angela was fast asleep and did not notice Bella hiding the dress under the bed. Teary eyed, she lay in her bed and waited for sleep to take her, trying hard not to picture herself dancing with the Prince.

When sleep avoided her, she made a promise to herself. She's try opening another walnut the next night. Perhaps fate would give her another chance.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. I'm not a big fan of fashion so forgive me if the descriptions are lacking. I am currently wearing a lovely plum coloured bathrobe and black fuzzy slippers festooned with cat hair.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 13

The ogre's eyes followed Bella as she preformed her duties the next morning. Not only was Bella tired and distracted but she was down heartened as well. The ogre noticed that there was something different about the girl but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it could be. She was determined to find out.

Angela worried for Bella and tried to help her with her work to make the day go faster. However, with the increased population in the castle, there were still too many people to feed and not enough hands. They toiled through out the day, barely having time to eat let alone rest. By the time the day was over and the last of the meals served, Bella was exhausted but still set on trying an other walnut. She was fairly certain that there would be another dress, for that is was her heart hoped for, another dress would be another chance to have Prince Edward see her as a Princess.

She hid herself behind the tapestry again and reached in her pocket for the nut. The dress that appeared on her body when she broke the shell was pale yellow peau de soie, like soft morning sunshine. There was a very fine white lace overlay about her hips that has tiny glass beading in as delicate floral pattern. The bodice was unadorned but there was a glittering diamond necklace that dropped to a point just above her cleavage as it appeared out of the scooped neckline. Her slippers were white kid as were the gloves that came to just below her shoulders.

When she looked in the glass at the end of the hall she saw that her hair was styled very simply but graced with a fine tiara dotted with pale yellow stones. She gave herself a tired smile and walked down to the ball room. Again the room was awash with colour as couples danced around. The King and Queen sat on their thrones on an area raised above the dance floor. The orchestra was much smaller than the night before and the music lent a more intimate feel to the room.

It seemed to be almost providence that as Isabella walked into the room the music stopped and the crown parted. It was coincidental. However, the parting of the crowd revealed Prince Edward. As he danced with his partner his eyes were roaming, looking for the mysterious Princess from yesterday. He was dressed in burgundy velvet with a dove grey waistcoat and matching cravat.

He saw her standing among the crowd and walked towards her, his hand outstretched. He stood before her and bowed. She placed her hand in his and after her curtsey, together they walked to the centre of the dance floor. No words were spoken as the music swelled around them and they began to dance. They moved together with an elegance reminiscent of a couple who had danced with each other for years.

Dance after dance they stayed partnered until after the last song was played. Many other Princesses and their envoys tried to catch the Prince's eye to interrupt but he only had eyes for the woman in his arms. When the last note fell the Prince bent down low to kiss her hand. He could hear her breath stutter as he did. He then spoke the only words between them that evening.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yes, Sir, as soon as I can." She curtseyed to him and ran from the room. He watched her as she left and stood staring at the last spot where he had seen her. He came out of his stupor when he heard the sound of his father clearing his throat. Edward turned and beamed at his father.

"Is she the one, then?"

"I don't know, perhaps. There is someone I need to consult with first. I will let you know tomorrow at the end of the Ball." He bowed to his father and dreamily walked from the ballroom.

Isabella flung herself behind the tapestry and struggled to catch her breath. He had seen her in all her regalia, they had danced, and he had stolen her heart anew. She was giddy and could not wait until tomorrow. To dance with him again, perhaps to talk and perhaps for something more.

She wrestled herself out of the dress, sorely missing her ladies maid, and dressed in the uniform again. The folded gown with all it's accessories made for a bulky package and she had some difficulty making her way to her room. So much difficulty that she did not notice the three pairs of eyes that saw her emergence from behind the tapestry. Two pairs were malevolent and plotting, the last benevolent but saddened. There was great trouble ahead for the disguised Princess Isabella.

After stowing the dress successfully under the bed with the other one, she fell into a pleasantly dream filled sleep. Although she did not sleep enough, her happiness carried her through the next day. Again she did not notice the angry glare of the ogre, even though the stare held much more ire than the day before. When her tasks were successfully completed she stole behind the tapestry, hopefully for the last time.

The dress was the most beautiful yet. Midnight blue velvet with a thin sapphire silk ribbon used as edging at the neck, arms, hem and waist. Her slippers were the same sapphire blue, as were the elbow length gloves. A choker of round sapphires rested on the base of her throat. Her hair was piled high on her head in fat curls and held together with a silver band.

She giggled and smiled while twirling around to see the skirt of the dress flare out around her, something she hadn't done since she was a small girl. Slightly dizzy, she stopped and hitched up her skirts to run, and turned down the darken hallway. She stopped and dropped her skirts when she saw the ogre and Queen Esmé standing under a circle of light at the end of the hall, scowling at her, their arms crossed over their bosoms.

The Queen raised one hand and beckoned Isabella to her with one flick of her finger.

With great reluctance, Isabella walked to the pair and curtsey to the Queen. Queen Esmé scoffed at the girl and grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip. She hauled Isabella down the stairs and all but shoved her onto the stage where the thrones were located. She fixed her glare at the orchestra and they stopped playing immediately. The dancers halted and pivoted to look at the dais.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have an imposter, a traitor and a thief in our midst." Queen Esmé announced.

"All wrapped up in this pretty package." She sneered.

She pushed Isabella to her knees as Prince Edward stormed from the room, slamming the door after him.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Peau de soie is a heavy silk and the name translates from the French as skin of silk. It is a very luxurious fabric but a right bitch to work with. Poor Bella is in some serious doodoo now, but don't worry because A) it's just a story, and B) the cavalry has been called. I guess today would be a bad time to announce that this story is going on hiatus until I return from a very lengthy fishing expedition in Northern Iceland. See you in six months or tomorrow once I remember just how seasick I get. Please don't throw things at me, I can't catch for shit. It is a joke, really.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 14

As the echoing of the door slamming reverberated around the room, the gasps and whispers of the crowd grew louder. Just as the whispers started to become murmurs, the door opened and in walked King Carlisle with Prince Edward and Tia in tow. Those in the crowd looked from one Monarch to the other. King Carlisle walked purposely to the dais and took in the scene before him. He noticed his wife's malicious sneer and the young lady on her knees at her feet. As he walked over to the girl, the gathering held their collective breath. The girl did not raise her head but stared at the floor in front of her. King Carlisle turned and addressed the room.

"Leave us, please." He waited until the ballroom had cleared before he spoke again.

"Please stand, young lady, a Princess should not be on her knees, at least not in my Kingdom." He stresses the word _my_ while turning his gaze to his wife. Isabella very cautiously got to her feet. She looked up into the kind eyes of the King and did her best curtsey. He bowed to her in return and held out his hand. When she placed her hand in his, he led her over to a low bench hidden off to the side behind the thrones. They sat facing each other as Prince Edward came to stand just behind his father.

"By the looks of you, your hair and eyes, I'd say you are one of Charles' daughters. I know he has many but I've only ever met the eldest. Your mother was with twins the last I saw of her. Tell me, please, how did you come to be working in my kitchens?" He still held her hand and patted it gently with his other. Prince Edward sat on the bench behind him as Isabella started her tale.

"I am the middle daughter of seven girls born to King Charles. Our mother died some years ago and father has always been distant. He gathered us together and asked us one at a time, what the one thing was that we prized just below our love for him. We were given one night to think of something. I thought it over and when the time came I told him. But he misunderstood my answer and remove me from the kingdom.

I walked here and after befriending a witch named Alice, I found that there was employment here. I can cook and would have been happy to stay working in the kitchens for as long as it took for my father to forgive me. Or for him to listen to my reasoning. He is a stubborn man and does not listen well. I thought that eventually he would come here to the castle and I could make my case to him then."

Isabella paused to wipe the tears from her face. The events of the last few days were weighing heavily on her. She was bone-weary.

"Alice changed my appearance and gave me some magic to use if I were to need it. I used the first bit of magic with the hopes of having Prince Edward notice me. I had seen him in the gardens and the kitchens but he never seemed to see me. I promise, Sire, I was not using magic to entrap him, that wasn't my intention. There was just something that drew me to him and I thought more like the Princess I was than the cook that I am now. With the magic I did gain his attention, however, not in the way I wanted to, so I gave it to the old woman in the cottage at the edge of the forest."

Isabella chanced a look at Prince Edward. She was disheartened by the frown on his face as well as the fact that he was looking at the floor and not at her. She sighed and resumed her story.

"By this time I had figured out how to make the magic work for me. What I wanted was for the Prince to see me as his equal, not his servant. The magic gave me the clothing I needed to attend the Balls and perhaps dance with the Prince. I knew that if I was not his choice then at least I had been given my chance without magical trickery."

Queen Esmé could take no more of this girl's story.

"How can you say you haven't use magical trickery? All you have done is try to trick him into having you when there are so many other legitimate Princess to choose from." She fumed and harrumphed thinking that her husband would banish the girl.

"Yet again, Esmé, you have missed the point. Would you call the shiny bangles these Princesses wear trickery? Their face paint? Or more likely their corsets. All these things they do to alter their appearance with the hope of catching a Prince. Is that magical?" King Carlisle stood and walked over to his wife. He remembered the first time he had seem her on their wedding day. She had looked lovely and demure, with a faint blush on her cheeks and the tiniest waist he had ever seen. It wasn't until their wedding night that he discovered the it was all smoke and mirrors. The demure, tiny waisted Princess was really a conniving hard hearted wretch in a good corset.

"Well, no, but..."

"Isabella used the same methods as all the other Princesses to try to win Edward's heart. Her's just came from magic and not a seamstress."

The Queen growled at her husband and flounced out of the room. She did not enjoy being told she was wrong, by anyone.

"Well Edward, what say you?" King Carlisle looked to his son, who had remained silent since alerting the King to what was happening in the Ballroom.

Prince Edward raised his head and looked over to his aged nurse, Tia. She smiled at the boy and nodded her head. He looked then at his father and stood.

"Father, the only thing I can think to say is that I had already found my bride before Princess Isabella's confession."

Isabella swallowed the sob that threatened to emerge, and closed her eyes, resigned herself to the fact that she would have to leave the castle and Prince Edward behind. With her eyes closed she did not see Prince Edward bend on one knee before her. When she felt a feather light touch upon her cheek her eyes flew open and she took in the sight of Prince Edward's smiling face.

"Isabella, Bella? I was enamoured of you when I knew you to be a servant in the kitchens. To find that you are a Princess as well just solidifies my feelings. So I am asking, most humbly, could you consider me? Would you consent to become my wife and future Queen?" He looked beseechingly into her eyes and awaited her answer.

"Yes."

With youthful exuberance, forgetting the company he was in as well as general propriety, he lent forward and kissed his fiancée with passion.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. I have been totally ungrateful for failing to thank MariahajilE for the recommendation on tehlemonadestand this week. Thank you!**

 **So, this morning one of my cats decided that her next prey should be my new bra, turquoise with a periwinkle lace overlay (reminds me of Monet's Water Lillies). I'm just very happy that I wasn't wearing it at the time. I couldn't imagine trying to explain that to the doctor.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 15

After much clearing of the King's throat, the newly formed couple broke apart and turned to face him.

"Congratulations, son, Isabella. I shall inform our guests that tonight's Ball will be postponed until tomorrow and that it will now be an engagement party. I'm sure some of the more polite guests will stay. As for the Queen, she will make her apologies to you in the morning, Isabella. I wonder how she came to know? She seldom has anything to do with the staff." King Carlisle scratched his forehead in thought.

"Sire, please, I believe I know how she came to be informed and, if I may, I would like to speak to the accusing individual myself," Isabella pleaded with him.

"Of course, my dear. Well, after this eventful evening, I am in need of rest. Goodnight all."

The King made his retreat, leaving Isabella and Edward with a sombre looking Tia.

"This is a joyous occasion, what has you upset, Nanny?" Prince Edward slipped one arm around the waist of his intended.

"'Tis hard for an old woman to see her boy become a man. I am sad for the passage of time only, child. Come, give me a kiss and get out, I wish to speak to Isabella again."

Prince Edward did as he was told. First he placed a gentle kiss on the lips of his bride to be, then he kissed the weathered cheek of the other woman who loved him. Tia waited until he had left the room before speaking to Isabella.

"I regret that I was unable to stop the Queen and housekeeper from exposing you, especially in the way that they did. I saw you last night, both in your new gown and after you had removed it. I also noticed them watching you as well. The sequence of events had already been determined and there was nothing I could do to change them. Please forgive me, child."

"I harbour no ill will towards anyone, Tia. If things had happened differently I may never had revealed myself, but laboured in the kitchens until I could have had words with my father. Rest well and, please do not worry." Isabella gave the old woman a kiss on both her cheeks and smiled at her.

"What will you do know? You can not stay in servants quarters and I fear the Queen will retaliate if you stay in the castle. Would you be willing to stay with me in my cottage? There is room for one more, and I can be your chaperone until the wedding."

"Thank you, I would be honoured. I will join you tomorrow. I wish to speak to Angela, my bed mate and gather my possessions."

Tia nodded but still worried for the girl.

Isabella walked back to the tapestry for the last time. She removed the lovely velvet dress and, with uniform in place, retired to her room for the last time.

The spit boy's knock came earlier than Isabella expected. Mechanically she rose, washed, dressed and went down to the kitchens. She knew that her new status would not require her work in the kitchen but she also knew that they were short-staffed and she did not mind helping out one more time. She was already working at her station when the ogre walked in to the room.

The ogre started towards the girl with a rabid anger that was almost apoplectic in nature before her more practical side overcame her. If she could get a few hours of free labour from the chit before she hung, more the better. The ogre huffed and snorted and started her own work. When breakfast had been sufficiently prepared she waltzed over to the girl and grabbed her by the collar, dragging her into the office.

The ogre stood with her arms crossed over her ample chest as she glared down at the girl.

"Why are you still here? Why are you not in the dungeons or on the road out of here? I told you that I would have your job if you tried to interfere with the Prince. I know you used magic to try to entrap him. I knew something was not right about you and I followed you. I told the Queen all about your freckles vanishing and your stolen dresses. I told her you were an imposter and I expected you to be gone or punished." Although she could not see it, Isabella was fairly certain that there was steam emanating from the ears of the ogre.

"I hope it is not customary in this Kingdom to incarcerate Princesses who are engaged to the Prince. I shall have to speak to my fiancé, Prince Edward, if that is the case." Isabella also crossed her arms over her chest, although it was not as ample as the ogre's.

The ogre could form no words, she could scarcely draw a breath. She fell into the nearest chair and began to cry. Isabella was at a loss for what to do, this was not a reaction she expected. She went back into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water and upon returning gave it to the ogre.

"Why you? Why not me? I loved a Prince too, once. He never rescued me from the kitchens. It is just not fair. I was even pretty back then, he could have loved me, and then I wouldn't have turned in to this, this ogre." The ogre began to wail, crying so hard that Isabella found it very difficult to understand her. The gist of the story was that the ogre did love a prince, he married another, she was heartbroken and now jealous of Isabella. When she had calmed enough to hear Isabella's story, to learn that Isabella was a real Princess in disguise, not just a girl who had to work, she listened raptly to the rest of the tale. Then she started crying anew.

"You are going to have me sacked, aren't you. Dismissed from my job, terminated and removed. Oh, where will I go? What will I do now?"

It took a full ten minutes to calm her this time.

"I won't have you removed. You only informed the Queen of what you believed to be an imposter. There was no way for you to know it wasn't true. Well, not really true, I was an imposter, just not the kind you thought I was. You were protecting the Prince and the Kingdom, I can't fault you for that. But I do require your help. Would you consent to help me?"

"Yes, yes, I will. Thank you." Together they formed the plot that Isabella needed, the plot that had been in her mind since her father disowned her. The plot that brought her to the castle and her true love.

Isabella was starting to see the pretty young girl inside of the ogre. For she wasn't a true ogre, not in the magical sense, but a woman hardened by heartbreak. A woman with a heart, a history and a name.

"Just out of curiosity, what was the name of the Prince you loved?"

The former ogre blew her nose, wiped her eyes and, for the first time in years, smiled.

"Prince Charles, King Charles now."

 **AN: Thank you for reading. I have never had so many people concerned for my undergarments before. I am pleased to announce that no harm came either to the bra or the kitten. Today, socks were on her hunting agenda. I am hoping to have this story wrapped up, nice and pretty, by the end of the month so I can start on my next project.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 16

King Carlisle informed the vast crowd of Princesses that Prince Edward was now engaged. After the sobs and tears died down, many agreed to stay and celebrate at the engagement party. Messengers were dispatched to every nearby Kingdom to announce the news. Heralds shouted of the event throughout the town and environs. Two weeks from now Prince Edward will marry the Princess of his choosing.

Isabella gathered her belongings and stashed dresses from her room and said a tearful thank you to Angela for her help and hospitality. Angela had been quite amazed that the girl she had been sharing a room with for the past month was a real Princess. Although King Carlisle offered Isabella the best suite in the castle, save his own, she was quite happy to share Tia's cottage.

Now kindly dismissed from her kitchen duties, Isabella's first bridal task was to stand, stock still, and wait while the royal dressmakers measured, pinned, poked and prodded her for her wedding gown. One of the dressmakers was tasked with altering the blue velvet gown for the engagement party as there was no time to make a new dress.

Prince Edward's job was to pace back and forth, fuming as he waited his turn to spend time with his fiancée. He waited in vain the entire day only to finally see her at the dance. The crowd, although bitter with jealousy, watched the pair dance to every song, complete within each other.

Queen Esmé, once properly chastised by the King, ruled over the Ball, smiling as though she was delighted with the match. To placate the crowd she kissed and fussed over the girl while calling her _daughter._ The gathering, too concerned with their own problems had either forgotten or not noticed that Princess Isabella was the same girl they saw punished the night before.

In a veritable blink of an eye, the wedding was nigh. The days flew past for all involved. Prince Edward and Isabella were able to spend some time to get to know the other, not enough time, as Tia kept a very close eye on Isabella. There were many kisses stolen behind ancient trees, large boulders and cottage doors. Isabella was sent to Rosalie's cottage one afternoon only to return with a vibrant blush upon her cheeks. With Tia's permission, Rosalie's frank discussion about marital relations had Isabella looking at Prince Edward with trepidation.

The day before the wedding, Alice arrived at the palace to serve as Matron of Honour. She dragged with her a very dishevelled warlock who, in the time Isabella had spent in the castle, had become her husband. He was not a very good warlock, most of his spells backfired, his potions were weak and less than useful. He had fallen in love with Alice at first glance and, after performing some rather bad magic, ran to hide from her. His potion to ensure Alice felt the same for him had actually, temporarily stolen her powers. He slunk back to her and grovelled, successfully, for hours, until she took pity on him and consented to marry him. Much to Isabella's amusement, Alice kept her husband, Jasper, on a very short leash by binding his magic until he could study and improve. But she loved him passionately, regardless.

King Charles arrived late in the afternoon, almost in time for the pre-wedding feast. He presented himself with a retinue of advisors, all of them useless, with the aim of finding profitable matches for his remaining three daughters. He was angered, still, by the fact that his daughter, the one he got rid of, should have been the one engaged to Prince Edward.

Just as the feast was about to begin, Prince Edward was troubled. He could not find his bride to be. He searched high and low throughout the castle and the cottage. When finally he found her, in the kitchens having a tête-à-tête with the housekeeper, for the first time ever he was slightly afraid of her. Upon her face was a calculating smile he had never seen before. She ran over to him when she saw him and threw her arms around his neck. The joy of the public display of affection overrode the fear of before.

With a wink and a nod at the housekeeper, Isabella left the kitchens and walked with Prince Edward to the dining hall for their celebration. They were seated with the King and Queen facing the room and all their well wishers.

For the feast, the housekeeper, who had been in an extraordinarily good mood the last few weeks, had pulled out all the stops. The food was sublime. Every plate a masterpiece. Not a morsel was returned to the kitchens for every plate looked as though it had been licked clean. Save for one.

King Charles was livid. Here he had travelled many miles to attend the wedding of the Prince, who by rights, should be fathering Charles' successor. He grumped through the toasts and announcements not listening to them at all. He had no idea who the bride was or even what her name was. He was even expected to dance with the girl who had stolen the Prince from his Isabella. And the worst of all, the food was awful. It was like sand in his mouth. There was no taste, no joy, and no interest. He could hear all around him, the other Kings and company raving over the delicacies they ate. He tried to consume his meal and not to let everyone around him know, lest they think something wrong with him for not enjoying the meal.

He left the dining hall unsatisfied and entered the Ball room. The room itself was very well decorated but all the decorations paled in comparison to the affianced couple. Prince Edward was dressed in black with his intended beside him dressed in dark green. They were a very handsome couple, a fact that only served to irk King Charles more. The music began and Charles waited for his turn to dance with the bride.

The wait for his dance took an eternally long time but at last, the girl curtsied to him and they began. Much to his embarrassment, his stomach rumbled and complained through the dance.

"King Charles, are you not well? Was dinner not to your liking?" The Princess gave him a look of concern, masking her true feelings.

"While it was beautiful to look at, no the food was not to my liking. It had no flavour and it gave me no joy to eat it."

"I wonder, do you know what it might have been lacking?"

"No, I know nothing about cooking, food or kitchens."

"Perhaps if I were to show you our kitchens, you could find what was wrong with your meal. Would you follow me?"

The Princess led King Charles over to her groom and the three of the journeyed down to the ogre's lair.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Tomorrow, King Charles gets it, but good. And the ogre gets hers too. Not like that, you dirty minded fiends.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 17

King Charles could not remember the last time he visited a kitchen. To see the hive of activity, the many people running around, it almost looked like the Ballroom upstairs. Without the fancy dresses, of course.

The Princess bride-to-be stopped in front of a large, imposing woman who looked at him through narrowed eyes. King Charles was taken aback by the sight of her. It was the kind of look his late wife used to give him. A look full of reproach and disappointment.

The King turned to look at the Princess, finding her a much more pleasant sight. She seemed familiar some how, perhaps they had met in the past and he had forgotten.

The Princess spoke gently to the angry woman, with a slight hint of mischief in her eye.

"Renée? King Charles was unsatisfied with his meal. Is there, perhaps, something we could prepare for him?"

"Of course, My Lady Isabella. I have just the thing for him. It's just heating on the stove." Renée curtseyed and went to fetch the King his meal.

"Do you expect me to eat here? In the kitchens with the servants? It is preposterous." King Charles was flabbergasted at the idea.

"I do, King Charles. The people here have worked for days and days to prepare for this feast. The least pleasure you can give them in repayment is to see you enjoy their efforts. They work from sun-up to sun-down, every last one of them. And there are thousands of others you do not see who work equally as hard, the farmers, hunters, woodsmen, and fishermen. All working so that you may enjoy your life and rule your Kingdom. One might say they are the salt of the earth." Isabella smiled at her father, wondering if he would get her hint.

"Yes, well they get paid, don't they?" King Charles grumbled, hunger did not improve his disposition.

"Yes, they do get paid in currency, room and board. Some might say they are worth their salt."

"Here we are, some hearty stew, freshly made. And some lovely bread, too." Renée placed the tray in front of the King.

Prince Edward carried a high stool over and King Charles sat upon it and started to eat. He dipped his spoon in the stew and brought a huge mouthful to his lips. He inhaled the scent of it through his nose and closed his eyee in anticipation of the taste. It was vile. The most disgusting thing he had ever put in his mouth. Very childishly he spat it out back into the bowl. He grabbed some of the bread and rammed it into his mouth, hoping that the bread would absorb some of the horrendous taste. The bread tasted even worse. He jumped off the stool and started yelling at the Princess and this Renée.

"What are you trying to do? Poison me? I'll have your heads for this." He made to move towards them but was stopped by a very angry looking Prince Edward.

"No, father, we are not trying to poison you. I am trying to teach you a lesson. A lesson you would not have needed if you had just let me explain before you disowned me."

"Isabella? I thought you were fair, short and plump?" He gaped slack-jawed at his daughter. The lady before him had dark hair and eyes. She was beautiful.

"No, father. I am Isabella. Margaret is fair. Rachel and Rebecca are plump. Kate is short, but then she is still just a child. Here, drink this water and I will tell you the meaning of this lesson."

King Charles grabbed the glass of water and drank it down in one gulp. He sat heavily on the stool and waited for his daughter to speak.

"When you asked what it was that I prized just under you, I told you 'I love you more than the salt in my food'. You thought me to be flippant and unworthy. You called salt useless and had me removed from my family. You needed to be taught that just because something is common it does not mean it is not pertinent and valuable. Your meal at dinner was specially prepare without any salt. It was tasteless, wasn't it. It lack flavour and therefore did not satisfy, correct."

King Charles nodded his head.

"My love for you is common. You are my father and you gave me life. I love you for that. But I can not say you are precious to me because you never took the time to know me. You were not a loving, caring father, you were just there. The stew you just tried to eat was given too much salt, making it unbearable and revolting. By asking me to qualify my love for you when you have given none yourself is also unbearable. It is asking too much for something you haven't earned. When used correctly, salt can enhance and enliven food to be enjoyable, too much can be poisonous. Do you now see the distinction? Salt, thought common is complex, a necessity and a detriment. Do you understand, Your Majesty?"

"I believe so, child, and I am sorry for not listening to you before. I never put stock in my daughters and I should have. I was too concerned with finding an heir to the throne that I lost sight of what I had. Three of your sister's have left me. Can I count on you to help me? Could your son sit on my throne and rule?"

Isabella laid her hand upon his and shook her head.

"My sons, if I have any, will rule this Kingdom with pride and grace like their father and grandfather before them. You have three more daughters at home. Be better to them, love them and learn from them. Then, perhaps one of them will help you in the way you need. My place is here with Edward."

Prince Edward grinned and wrapped his arms around Isabella's waist. He was bursting with pride that he had found this girl to marry him. She would make an excellent Queen.

"Perhaps you need to marry again, father? Find a good woman to work at your side?" Isabella's sly glance at Renée found Renée shaking her head and waving her hands at the Princess.

"Or perhaps not." Isabella said.

More food was brought to the King, properly prepared and delicious. After he ate his fill, he bowed to his daughter and kissed her hand, apologizing once again. Prince Edward led him back to the Ballroom, leaving Isabella to speak with Renée.

"I thought you fancied him? I thought you held a torch for him all these years and that you would have liked the opportunity to be his wife." Isabella questioned her.

"I did, Your Highness, I did. But that was not the Prince I remembered."

"What ever do you mean?"

Renée sighed heavily. She stuttered and spluttered her way through an explanation.

"It's just that, with time and age, and distance I guess, you know, the mind remembers things differently and, well, he is just not handsome enough any more."

 **AN: Thank you for reading. I like the idea that King Charles is not pretty enough for the ogre. She has standards, you know. Tomorrow will be the last chapter. You are cordially invited to the Royal Wedding. Please attend in your fanciest pyjamas and fascinators.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Universe. I own a twisted imagination.**

Chapter 18

The next morning, a very eager groom hurried about his suite of rooms, checking and rechecking everything he needed for both the wedding and the wedding night. The advice his father had given him was running through his mind repeatedly. His worry for the night was twofold. Firstly, he had never shared his bed before and secondly, he was afraid that his overwhelming eagerness to share his bed would lead to embarrassment. There were many things he had to do and many people he had to endure before it would be time to share his bed. He worried that perhaps Bella would not be as eager to share his bed as he was and that perhaps she would want to wait until they were better acquainted.

The bride-to-be was being attended by several women preparing her for the day ahead. The conversation she had had with Rosalie a few days before had prepared her for the wedding night. She watched as Renée cuddled a sleepy Tizzy by the fire and smiled at how much the woman had changed. But the though of having her own child to cuddle took any of the anticipatory reluctance about the wedding night from her thoughts.

Tia and Alice were fussing over the beautiful white gown that hung waiting to be worn. Rosalie was employing the considerable skill of her quick fingers to arrange Bella's hair with the plethora of jewels Queen Esmé had provided. Queen Esmé had completely forgotten any animosity she had towards her new daughter-in-law. What was interpreted as coldness in Queen Esmé was actually the most appalling short term memory yet known in history.

The father of the bride and the father of the groom were both waiting for the groom to exit his room. They both knew that the boy was in desperate need of a stiff drink or two. They toasted the bride, the day, each other and magic. When Prince Edward began to toast to the night ahead, both Kings knew it was time to take away his drink.

It finally came time for the ceremony, the crowd found that the groom was tipsy and the bride radiant. No truer vows were ever spoken of love, devotion and fidelity. They made their pledges to each other and sealed it with a passionate kiss. So lost in the other were they, that they did not hear the cheers of the crowd.

A very lengthy receiving line kept the couple busy for what seemed like hours. Only able to sneak meaningful glances and quick touches, they were fêted and greeted until their hands and feet were sore. The wedding feast was more grand than any in attendance had ever seen. Sumptuous dishes for all corners of the land were arranged for everyone's consumption.

When at last Edward was able to take his bride in his arms, they all but ached to hold her. To which song the danced, neither could tell. His hand on her back felt like a branding iron, the heat of it searing into her very bones. The feel of her palm, strong and warm in his sent shivers done his spine 'til it reached his toes. The curve of her body against his sent his mind reeling with possibilities. They were forced to dance with others but always managed to return to the other.

In a spare moment, late into the evening, Isabella pulled Alice aside. Her held out her hand and in it was the fifth and final charmed walnut.

"Alice, thank you. I want to return this to you. I have everything I could ever want. I have no need for this now."

Isabella gathered Alice in a fierce embrace and kissed her cheek. Alice took the nut and held it in her hand. Returned magic held a special power and Alice wondered who could be in need of such a reward.

King Charles sought out his daughter and thanked her for her kind words and lessons. He asked that perhaps one day she would deign to travel back to his Kingdom and check on his progress with her sister's. Arrangement would be made for a time in the not too distant future.

As the evening drew to a close and the last dance was over, the young couple said their good-nights and retired to their chamber. The echoing thud of the door closing brought Edward's nerves back in to play. His father had told him that he would need to tread carefully with Isabella. That most likely Isabella would be scared, shy and unaware of what was to happen that night. Her lack of mother or of mother figure meant that there had been no lady to inform her. That fact weighed heavily on Edward's mind.

Edward gave his bride a long, slow kiss before leaving their embrace to light some candles. When he had finished, he deep breath to calm himself and turned to face Isabella. What he did not expect to see on her face was the predatory grin and sly gleam in her eye. She looked at him, running the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. Without breaking his gaze, she walked towards him as her hand began to undo the closures of her gown.

Edward felt moisture collect on his brow. She looked lovely. She looked brazen. She looked slightly dangerous. Edward found it difficult to swallow. Try as he might, he was unable to keep his eyes on hers as button after button was opened on her gown. He sat heavily on the bed and watched as she began to remove her clothing.

Isabella's wedding gown was made of very heavy white velvet. The material was so thick that until the right number of buttons had been opened, only a handful of people knew that underneath it she wore a silk shift in dark red, all of them the women who had attended her. The contrasting colour awoke something in Edward and with a sudden swiftness, he had her in his arms and on the bed. He rained kisses on the exposed skin of her neck and chest. Isabella breathed out a laugh and began to pull and tug at his clothing.

Edward thought it miraculous that he did not embarrass himself during the time it took to completely free them of their garments. Although it was a very close call a number of times; when he first saw her breasts, when he first held them in his hands, when she was fully undressed, when he saw the look in her eye when she saw that he was fully undressed. What finally un-manned him, was when she slowly slid her fingers down his body and held him in her hand for the first time. She kissed him sweetly when he began to apologize, stopping his worry.

"Now, we can take our time, my darling."

And they did. As Edward was young, hale and hearty, they were able to take their time, again and again. He made a very studious effort to learn each and every place on her body that brought her pleasure. He catalogued every sigh, moan and whimper for their usage again over time.

With gentle pressure they joined as one, pausing to acclimate to each new sensation. She held him tightly to her for fear that she would fly away with joy. He held her down, pinning her beneath him to better chase his feelings of euphoria. Shaking and panting, she felt as he reached his end, finding hers in his embrace. The only words they felt the need to speak were words of love and thanks.

And from that first night until their last, they lived happily ever after.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. I can not tell you how much I have enjoyed reading all of your thoughts and comments. I know there are some who would wish for a more graphic wedding night but I don't think it is keeping with the fairy tale idea. There are much better (smut) writers than me, so if you are unsatisfied with having to read between the lines, go find them. I can give some recommendations, too, because I don't mind reading it, I just can't seem to write it.**


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